The Hinklewatt Berry

The Hinklewatt Berry grows high in a tree

Way up in the mountains of Bangeladee.

Its blossom is rare, quite a sight to behold,

A beauty seen only by travelers bold.

For just once a year does it give off its fruit,

Which tastes a bit like an old moth-eaten suit.

What good can there be from a taste so off-putting?

It's great, so they say, for a chimney de-sooting.

Classic Poem #3: What Christmas is Not

In times such as these, full of holiday cheer,

A jolly old man and eight tiny reindeer,

It's best to remember what Christmas is not,

Lest we forget to remember what it is we forgot..

With thousands of twinkling lights all around,

With trees in the houses and snow on the ground,

With specials on TV and eggnog for all,

We're swept up in joy from the first day of Fall.

The closets all packed with presents on the shelves,

The lawns decorated with miniature elves,

The fireplace crackling with chestnuts and such,

All fill us with glee, quite lots and quite much.

But please, if you will, do remember one thing,

One thing very 'portant, one thing I do sing;

This season is nice, it fills us with bliss,

But if Christ hadn't come, it wouldn't exist.

So do not forget, in the midst of this fuss,

Who came down to earth and gave us Christmas.

Give props to the Lord for his Son he done sent,

And stock up on cookies, for quite soon, 'twill be Lent.

Classic Poem #1: Help!

Someone help me, please!

I am stuck in a haiku

And I can't get out!

Caution

A tale of caution you won't want to miss:

Beware of surroundings when taken by bliss,

Since hard is recovery when you screw up like this:

To smootch someone's nostril when you lean in to kiss...

In Need of Moisturizer...

Tonight I walk out in the dark.

The air, it lacks the song of lark.

Within my heart, a tiny spark,

But my skin is dry as pine tree bark...

Thirteen Below, v2.0

We go to the snow when it's thirteen below...

Why we go when it's so cold, we don't really know.

I fret at the wet squishy feeling I get

When I walk in my socks, 'cause I lost some dumb bet.

Then a fox ate my socks as they dried on the rocks.

And now my poor toes are feeling cold shocks.

Thirteen Below

We go to the snow when it's thirteen below,

And high up above the stars give a show.

The trees and the seas of old leaves dance with glee,

And the peace carries on just as far as I can see.